


reverently

by WattStalf



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, Nipple Play, PWP, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, general warning for Shinra being himself, i didnt wanna do this but i had no choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:29:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: She could never be boring, he knows, and if he ever bores her...well, she hasn't given him any indication, and he likes to think he would notice that right away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was saved as 'i didnt want to have to do this'. I got tired of deep tag digging for smut of these two (and when did I stop hating this ship? this was my nOTP once, and now, here I am) so I wrote some my damn self. And it was easier than I expected, fuck.  
> 

Alone, once he gets her to lower her guard, once he has really has her and she's his and no one else's, he is reverent. Above all, Shinra is reverent, and he holds her from behind, murmuring. Like this, she can't respond to him, but he doesn't need her to, not anymore and not like this. After all, he knows her, he knows her so much better than anyone else will ever be able to, and she doesn't have to use words for him to understand her.

He is so happy to be in this position, and to be the only one who has ever been and the only one who ever will be. If it's possessive for him to think of her like this, then he isn't sure he has a problem with being possessive. None of that matters right now anyway, because right now there is just him, and there is just Celty, and there is just him and Celty, alone together.

He places a hand on her stomach, smooth and warmer, he thinks, then it should be. She leans into his touch, and he moves his hand so slowly, wanting to enjoy the feel of each inch of her skin. Reverent, he's so reverent, and when he cups one of her breasts, he rests his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling shadow, nuzzling nothing, murmuring where an ear should be, nibbling at empty air just to tease.

“You're so beautiful,” he says. “Even more so when you get all shy like this! I can tell when you're blushing, you know, and right now...I bet you'd be beet red.” He pauses for a moment as she squirms in his grip and he chuckles. “Yup, just got a little bit redder. So cute, and so, so beautiful...”

He likes to think she was surprised the first time they fucked, that she never knew his voice could drop so low or that he could put on such a smooth facade, and he hopes that she finds all of that endearing. It's all for her sake, after all, and he'd hate to hear that he'd miscalculated what she wanted from a lover. But, so far, she hasn't complained even once, so he thinks he's doing just fine. In fact, if he had to guess, he'd say that he had everything figured out perfectly.

He squeezes her breast gently, _reverently_ , before dragging his fingers forward to close them around her nipple, pinching lightly. She always has a very big reaction to that and tonight is no different, and she wiggles back against him, briefly unable to control her own movements as he pleasures her. Celty would be whimpering if she could, he thinks; he can imagine the noise so vividly that sometimes it almost sounds real. Sometimes, he almost convinces himself that it isn't all in his head.

Shinra places his other hand on her stomach, but he moves this one down, just as slowly, just as reverently. He loves her so much and this moment is so perfect, and he tells her as much, asking her if she agrees. She does, of course she does, and he really didn't even need to ask but he  _likes_ to. He likes to ask her and to not need her to really answer for him to know; he likes to prove that he does know, that he knows better than anyone, better than her, even, sometimes.

“I love you,” he says, and he repeats it, muffled against her shoulder as he actually nibbles at her this time, rather than at what is not there. He loves everything about her, every way he can experience her and every sensation, and so he loves the taste of her. And even if he cannot kiss her, he can still taste her and _know_. He can know every part of her, even- _especially_ \- those that others cannot.

His hand finally drops between her legs, and she really writhes under his touch then, pressing back against him so much that it's teasing him quite a bit, nearly driving him crazy. He has enough resistance to hold back for now though, because he's been waiting for her for years and a few minutes are nothing in comparison, and because he has to make things perfect for the both of them. It isn't easy, but it's worth it, and it shows his reverence; always, he remembers how important that is.

One of these days, he's going to have to try to pinpoint why it is that pleasure works the same for her and why the things that would feel good for the other women feel so good for her, but she's brushed him off whenever he's brought it up outside of the bedroom. Once she's out of her grasp, once she's put that tiny sliver of her guard back up- the most she ever shows to him, now that he has her- she just shoves him and tells him not to be so perverted, and pretends that she doesn't remember how she fell to pieces because of him. Maybe she just isn't as naturally curious.

Whatever the case, she can't hold still when he fingers her and he imagines whimpers turning to desperate, needy moans, and he slides his tongue along her shoulder and rolls her nipple between two fingers. She'll be done in in no time, which means that it's finally okay for him to stop holding back. No matter how much he reveres her, he still has his own needs, and he has never and will never be one to neglect his own needs, not for any reason. When he pulls his hand back up, he pretends she makes a noise of protest, pretends she whines for him not to stop.

“Don't worry,” he assures her, and it takes only a swift motion to push himself inside of her.

They have a rhythm figured out, familiar and comfortable, but never old, never tired, never boring. She could never be boring, he knows, and if he ever bores her...well, she hasn't given him any indication, and he likes to think he would notice that right away. He likes to think...he likes to think...he doesn't know, and he can't think anymore, not when he  _has her_ , when he can pretend to hear his name in a broken voice, when he gives quick, rhythmic jerks of his hips to compliment the way she pushes back against him, when they work together until she's there first. She was already so close, he knows, and he's proud of himself.

When he can think again, he'll think that that's the quickest he's gotten her there yet, but he can't think right now because he has always been quick. He has always been quick, and he wants to be embarrassed, especially considering that this  _isn't_ the quickest for him, but he never cares in the moment, and she never teases him later. She's  _shy_ , he knows, and she isn't likely to bring any of this up when they aren't in bed.

He groans when he comes, softly against her shoulder, and he clings tight to her with no intention of letting go even as the rest of his body relaxes into bliss. If he could never let go...Shinra wants to live like this, suspended in time, and certain that he is happier than anyone could ever be. He likes to think that Celty would agree, if he ever asked, but the moment ends as it always does. Even so, the night isn't over, he reminds himself, and when he's given himself a moment to catch his breath, he finds himself running his hands over her again. Slowly, gently, and so, so reverently.

 


End file.
